The Grandfather Effect

My Grandfather had an innate calming ability with his mere presence. I remembered cost u less auto insurance one night as I tensely paced the den in my apartment after a harrowing day at work. An unintentional grin replaced my agitated grimace as a wall portrait remortgage my grandfather captured my attention.

The sturdy features mesothelioma cure the man in the picture commanded a sense of quiet authority, but the deep blue eyes, full of a lifetime of wisdom, still contained a sparkle of youth. His eyes were a placid sea of calm, gently immersing those who fell into them. The eyes were framed by bushy, gray eyebrows which took some of the attention away from a pair of large, elliptical ears that could wiggle on demand.

His long nose with uneven nostrils formed the axis of a tan, wrinkled face that had known the toil of a lifetime of manual labor. The hands that had performed this labor were large and callused, with fingers like thick Polish sausages. Yet, he wielded them with loving gentleness, and I always felt safe when they held me in their embrace. However, if he was in a mischievous mood, he could deliver a crushing handshake that felt like getting your hand slammed in the door of a Plymouth Duster.

A fringe of gray hair formed a half-circle around a bald head that added an air of dignity to his features. Unlike most men of today, my grandfather met his baldness with a sense of humor. If a good-spirited joke were advanced regarding his cranial exhibit, he was always the one who laughed the hardest.

His tall, sturdy frame was slightly hunched due to age, and his large feet sported shoes like small tugboats. He always wore knit work pants and button-down dress shirts despite his t-shirts carpentry work. He aspired to an appearance that was just a notch above his social role.

A rich, deep southern accent drifted from his lips casually, like everything else he did, and his laugh was akin to the "ho, ho, ho" of that jolly old elf himself, except that my grandfather's was soft and reserved.

Despite his eighth-grade education, my grandfather possessed a mechanical intelligence that he would humbly reveal only through his actions. He approached every task with meticulous determination and his attention to detail was that of a perfectionist. He would not be satisfied until every tiny detail was accounted for and in its proper place. Slow, deliberate movements enhanced this personality trait as if he wanted to carefully inspect every detail of his surroundings. His walk was accompanied by shifting head movements as he shuffled along at a slow lumbering gait.

My grandfather was faithful to his work and to his family, and his endearing smile always set a stranger at ease and made him feel welcome. He possessed a special, rare quality that made a person smile to merely share his company, and a sense of calm always followed him like a loyal puppy.

I lost my Grandfather almost twenty years ago, but the memory of him continues to inspire me today.

Rick Huffman is a National long-haul driver who spent 20 years in the broadcasting industry before becoming a trucker. He describes the career change as, "...the best decision I ever made on one day, and the worst one I ever made on the next."

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